


My Trail's Nearly Ending

by germanaristocrat



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Angst, Despair, Emotional Hurt, Ficlet, Hurt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 14:39:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3573413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/germanaristocrat/pseuds/germanaristocrat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hope in reality is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man.<br/>-- Fredrick Nietzsche</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Trail's Nearly Ending

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive any errors, it was late when I got the urge to post this. Enjoy!  
> *title taken from the Soulsavers song, "Jesus of Nothing"*

_Harry's alive._

Those two words, one simple soft-spoken statement, were supposed to be Eggsy's lifeline. It was supposed to give him hope, make him feel like there was something worth fighting for again.  
  
After witnessing Harry's supposed murder at the church in Kentucky, Eggsy wasn't sure if there was any hope left in the world, maybe it had died with Harry. He had lost hope in his life before; quite a few times if he were to be honest with himself: when his father died, every time his prick of a stepfather beat him or his mum, when he saw the disappointment in his mum's eyes every time she would bail him out of some sort of trouble, etc. But he never felt so...fucked as he did when he realized Harry was never coming back.   
  
He hid it well, though. He became a full-fledged Kingsman agent, taking over the code name of Galahad from Harry, completing each mission given to him with the precision and ease that Harry had seen in him since day one. Maybe he was taking on too many missions for a rookie, but as long as Merlin was handing them out, he was accepting them. Hell, on some days, he even felt what he remembered to be as normal, meeting his friends at the pub for a pint when he wasn't busy saving the world...and his laughter didn't feel forced or fake. Inevitably, there was always something to remind him that his hope was gone, whether it be some bloke in well-tailored suit ordering a Guinness at the bar or something as simple as an umbrella leaning against the door frame. It always stole his breath away every time one of those reminders appeared, and it was getting harder and harder to recover from those. Sometimes, one of his friends would notice and comment that he seemed a bit "off." He would just play it off, feigning a headache or some other mysterious ailment, and pray that someone would make a joke, an off-color remark, anything to take the spotlight off of him. After all, to the outside world, Harry was just a mentor, nothing more. Eggsy shouldn't miss him this much...right?  
  
But he did. He missed Harry much more than he'd ever thought possible. The walls of his silent bedroom were the only ones that ever saw his tears. When he was alone, his chest would tighten, making it impossible to breathe, and the dam would break inside him. The room would be filled with the sound of broken sobs, ones that he wasn't even sure were coming from him but the wetness from the tears on his cheeks assured him that they were. He'd press his fist to his mouth, trying to muffle the cries as he choked with the effort of trying to stop the flood of tears. He'd beg Harry to not be dead, to come back to him so he could thank him for giving him a chance, for making his life worth something...and that he loved him, since he never got the chance to tell him while Harry was still alive. Of course, his pleas would go unheard and he would finally stop crying and pick himself back up, just a little more worse for wear than the previous time, determined to just make it through another day.  
  
So when Merlin said that Harry was alive and in the medical unit of the Kingsman estate, Eggsy felt a tiny spark of hope come back to life and he thought maybe life would be worth living again. The first time he saw Harry was through an observation window outside his room. He had a bulky dressing wrapped around his head, protecting the gunshot wound Valentine had so graciously given him, and he was unconscious, but alive. Eggsy stood by that window for hours, keeping guard over Harry, making certain that nothing would happen to him, only leaving when ordered to. Merlin had told Eggsy that Harry was found in some rural hospital by one of the senior agents from the US branch about three weeks after V-Day, and he knew they were damn lucky to have him back. It took another three weeks for the doctors in the US to stabilize Harry enough to ensure that he would survive the flight back to the UK, and also coordinate the appropriate agents to escort him back. Eggsy was a touch hurt that he wasn't assigned to go along, but he was sure that Merlin had his reasons and besides, Harry was safe and alive now; isn't that really all that mattered?  
  
Eggsy came to see him whenever he had free time; morning, noon, and night. Harry's sleeping face had to be the first thing he saw before facing the day and the last before he called it a night. Eventually, the medical staff took pity on him and gave him a chair to sit in next to Harry's bed. He held his hand and babbled to him, telling Harry about the missions he had been given, all the times he and Roxy caused trouble for the new recruits and faced Merlin's wrath, and all the mundane details of life. The doctors had told him to talk to Harry, that it might speed along the healing process, and after that, no one could shut him up. Anything to help Harry, he was willing to do.  
  
One particularly bright and beautiful morning about a week after Harry had been brought back to the UK, Eggsy strolled into his room, ready to begin the day with hand holding and a new story about how he moved Merlin's beloved clipboard and blamed it on a recruit who thought he was God's gift to Kingsman, but Eggsy stopped dead in his tracks when he realized Harry was sitting up in bed, finally awake. Eggsy swallowed hard, the emotions bubbling up inside him, and he bit down on his lip hard, hard enough to draw blood, all just to keep from sobbing. He wanted to run to the bedside and throw his arms around Harry's much too thin frame and just HOLD him. Never let him go again. Instead, he took a hesitant step towards the bed, waving hello slightly and keeping a hopeful smile on his face. Harry looked confused, and possibly a bit scared, but that was to be expected given everything he had been through.  
  
"Hey, Harry, you're awake. Christ, it's good to see you awake. How are you feeling, do you need some wa--"  
  
The perplexed look on Harry's face deepened and he held up his hand, a clear signal for Eggsy to stop talking. His face scrunched up, as if he was trying to solve a difficult riddle, and Eggsy held his breath as he waited for Harry to speak...afraid to move, afraid to even breathe. Finally, Harry's hand dropped, his face relaxing, and let out a long breath. Eggsy felt the hope grow in his heart a little bigger.   
  
That's the funny thing about hope: it can be killed as fast as it grows.  
  
A look of uncertainty came across Harry's face as he continued to stare at Eggsy, and then he shook his head. When he opened his mouth to speak, his words came out haltingly as if he was searching for the right words.  
  
"I'm...terribly sorry, sir. I don't seem...to recognize you. Are you a doctor?"  
  
Eggsy's heart shattered into a thousand jagged pieces and it felt like each one was piercing the flesh surrounding his rib cage. He thought thinking that Harry was dead was the absolute worst pain he had been through, but this? Harry not recognizing him, thinking they were fucking strangers?  
  
This was a fate far worse than any death.  
  
Harry was waiting for him to answer, a pleasant yet puzzled smile on his face. Eggsy felt his throat tighten, cutting off any chance at speaking normally. He managed to gasp out some excuse of needing to run off to a meeting, and he got the hell out of that room, not concerning himself with Harry's reaction. He ran blindly down the hall, looking for a door, any door that would lead outside, and he crashed through it when one presented itself. The unshed tears burned his eyes as he came to a stop in one of the many gardens on the property and he bent over at the waist with his hands on his knees, breathing hard. His shoulders shook with silent sobs and it took all the strength he didn’t have left to keep himself standing. He wanted to sink to his knees and scream until he had no voice left. He was now in a world where he might as well be invisible to Harry Hart. Eggsy was more than quite fucking certain he didn't want to live in that world. To Eggsy, that world shouldn't fucking exist, but that looked to be his determined fate.  
  
_Harry's alive_...but those words held no hope if he couldn't remember Eggsy.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first attempt at writing something "short." I hope you liked it!  
> Feel free to follow me on tumblr, [german-aristocrat](http://german-aristocrat.tumblr.com)


End file.
